


It does not do to dwell on dreams...

by Flaunderoys_Handkerchief



Series: Firewhiskey Challenge [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Firewhiskey challange, Gen, Ginny Weasley (mentioned) - Freeform, Hermione Granger (Mentioned) - Freeform, Swearing, What if Scenario, kinda sad, sorry 'bout this, sorry for my attempt at British swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 08:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flaunderoys_Handkerchief/pseuds/Flaunderoys_Handkerchief
Summary: This is the result of a firewhiskey challenge with the Promt: "Oh God, please let it be a nightmare..."It ended up being an introspect into a "what if" scenario, imagining Harry to wake up one day and... well you'll see when you click on this story, won't you? Just be prepared that it ended up being kinda angsty and dark. Edit: I changed the layout and formatting to make it easier to read.





	It does not do to dwell on dreams...

Dust was glistening in the sunlight when Harry’s eyes slowly fluttered open. He felt groggy like he had been run over by the Hogwarts Express – twice.  
As he came to he noticed his strange surroundings. Where the hell was he? It definitely wasn’t his and Ginny’s appartment in Rocester.  
Currently, he found himself sitting on a small twin bed in a one room apartment. To his left was a small kitchenette and on the far wall he spotted some worn down books on a rickety table. There were also two doors. One was probably leading to the bathroom and while the other constituted the exit of this tiny flat.  
Harry slowly got up from the bed, determined to investigate where he was and how he got here.  
Looking down at himself he saw that he was wearing baggy, grey sweatpants and and a worn-out greenish shirt. He didn’t remeber owning either of those pieces of clothing and he definitely did not want to think about how he ended up wearing them.  
Anyhow, at this point his auror skills decided to kick in and he searched the strange flat for any clues that might give him a hint of how he ended up there. However, he didn’t really come up with much.  
The flat was sparsely equipped and looked like it belonged to some muggle. Nothing magical of any sort stood out to him. In the end, though, Harry DID find something that only hightened his confusion: a wallet containing a driver’s license... with his name on it. „Harry James Potter“ it proclaimed in bold letters.  
It could have been the most normal thing in the world, if Harry had ever bothered to get a license. Sure, Hermione had gotten one since she argued it was just a sensible thing to do in case of an emergency but Harry had never seen the need for it what with him being able to apparate, use the floo network or a conveniently placed protkey. So how did a licence with his name AND picture – now that harry mentioned it – get to exist in this muggle household. He didn’t know what to make of that.  
So he decided to apparate home and figure things out there. Who knows? Maybe Ginny was already freaking out. Scratch that. She probably was mad as hell. He might even deserve it but he just couldn’t care less at this point in time. He merely wanted to be somewhere familiar and comforting. He wanted to be home.  
So when he turned on the spot he expected to feel the well-known feeling of apparition but, as it turnes out, nothing happened. Harry felt uneasiness sneaking up on him.  
Why couldn’t he disapperate? He tried to come up with a logical explanation and ultimately came to the conclusion that he had to be in a restricted area for apparition. But why should there be such a thing in a muggle neighborhood.  
  
So, since his first idea on how to get home didn’t work he decided to go to other means in order to reach his destination.  
First of all, he had to leave this appartment though, which he did. Since he was unfamiliar with his surroundings, Harry had to rely on Muggle transportation. After all, how was he to find a chimney connecting to the floo network much less a portkey?  
Luckily, he had remembered to pocket the wallet with his alleged license so he had access to at least a little bit of muggle currency. From that he concluded that he at least still was somewhere in the UK since the wallet contained British pound.  
After exiting the building and orienting himself, Harry made slow and complicated way back towards his current home town.  
  
In the evening he finally stood in front of his and Ginny’s flat ringing the doorbell. He was already bracing himself for a lecture. Bracing himself even for a sharp slap in the face. What he didn’t expect however was an old lady opening the door and asking „Yes, my boy, what can I do for you?“  
Harry was flabbergasted, opening and closing his mouth not knowing what to say.  
In the end, he opted for a simple: „Is Ginny home? Ginevra?“  
Now it was time for the old lady to look confused: „Ginevra? What a nice name! Never heard it before though. You must have gotten the wrong house. Maybe she gave you the wrong address? You know how the lassies are sometimes. Don’t sweat it. Young, strapping lad like yourself will find another one soon.“ With that she winked at him and was about to close the door.  
Yet, for once in his life, being a daring Gryffindor actually paid of and Harry placed his foot in the door at the last second. „Real sorry miss!,“ he addressed her, covering up his real feelings, „my friends must have taken the piss out of me with that one. Could I possibly give them a ring so that they’ll come and get me?“  
Harry was still pushing the truth aside, either not realizing or not seeing it. But something strange was going on for sure.  
So he decided to call the only sensible person that he ever knew and ask here what the devil was going on here.  
„Sure, my boy, but make it quick.“ the old lady said and ushered him inside.  
After the fifth ring someone actually picked up and at first Harry was quite relived. However, after talking to Mr. Granger for a while he realized that something was amiss here as well.  
Hermione didn’t seem to live there anymore and in fact she was currently on a gap year somewhere in Africa where they didn’t have any cell reception.  
Slowly but surely Harry began to freak out.  
„Oh God, please tell me I’m just having a nightmare.“ he thought to himself slowly coming to a dreadful conclusion. He was almost out of options and any second now the old lady would politely but sternly ask him to leave.  
So he picked up the phone again and dialed.  
After a period of time that felt like ages an annoyed voice answered the phone: „Dursley speaking. Who dares to call at this hour! You better be ashamed of your self!“  
Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He hadn’t talked to his uncle in years but now he simply had to in order to confirm that he was not, in fact, going crazy.  
„Uncle Vernon, it’s me, Harry,“ he mumbled reluctantly.  
„WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU CALLING FOR, POTTER? I THOUGHT I’D MADE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR THE LAST TIME THAT YOUR TWAT ARE NOT FUCKING WELCOME.“  
Harry held the phone away from his ear. Vernon had never particularly liked him before but the fact that he was so hostile was new. Though, there was nothing to be done about it now. He just needed some information and that would be it.  
So he decided to go along with it: „I know, I know. I shouldn’t have called but it’s kind of an emergency. Just need some information and then I’ll bugger off for good. Promise.“  
There were a few seconds of silence.  
„Well then boy, on with it, stopp wasting my goddamn time.“  
Harry was contemplating how to address this and then simply went with: „How did my parents REALLY die?“  
He could practically hear the confusion coming from the other end of the line.  
„Blimey... it’s finally happened hasn’t it? Bastard’s gone mad.“  
„Just answer the damn question,“ harry barked annoyed. There was only so much that he could take anymore after the day that he’d had.  
„They died in a bloodydamn car accident. Should’ve taken ya with ‚em but of course the egoistical fucks didn’t and we had to take care of your sorry arse.“  
Of course that’s how Vernon saw it. By this point of the conversation, Harry was digging his fingernails into his palms to keep him from snapping at his uncle. ‚Not yet, Harry, not yet’ he told himself.  
„One more question. Please answer it seriously however mad it might sound. Afterwards I’ll leave you alone forever. Did I ever get a letter from Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft?“  
Vernon bursted out laughing and almost couldn’t contain himself. In between catching his breath he belched out: „Witchcraft?!“  
Another laughing fit. „Boy thinks he’s a wizard!“ A sharp intake of air. „Riddikulus!“  
With these words, Harry’s world started to spin and would ultimately never be the same again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This story really came out of nowhere and I decided to share it anyways cause hey why not? Maybe some of you would like it?
> 
> If you did be sure to leave some kudos or a review. If you didn't... well I literally wrote this as a firewhiskey challenge so I'm aware that it's not the best piece of literature out there, no need to be rude or anything...
> 
> This is the raw and unedited result of my writing session so I'm apologizing for any mistakes I might have made.  
> Edit: I decided to edit the layout so it is easier to read but I didn't go over the content or grammar...
> 
> Once again I thank you and I hope I didn't unsettle you too much with this little tale...


End file.
